


Safer With You

by MosaicCreme



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 01:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14864249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MosaicCreme/pseuds/MosaicCreme
Summary: Adjusting to being alive again and surrounded by members of Cerberus, Shepard seeks out Garrus for a sense of comfort and safety. Their friendship blossoms and leads to romance.





	1. You Say the Nicest Things

**You Say the Nicest Things**

Garrus' eyes shot open. Mind foggy with sleep, he strained to listen, trying to place the sound that woke him. Someone was in the Main Battery with him, he heard the gentle sounds of breathing. Bleary-eyed, he swung his legs over the side of the cot, scanning the room, but nothing jumped out at him in the shadows. He stood and took a step, letting out a startled yelp when his foot came down on something warm and soft, giving beneath his weight. He stumbled, landing back on the cot as someone choked out a strangled gasp and groan.

_Spirits!_

Looking down, he saw a figure lying on the floor a foot from his cot, arms wrapped around themselves as they sputtered and coughed. It only took a second for him to process the shape and the scent in the air, making some sort of sense of it all. "Shepard?"

She coughed and groaned again, rolling over to tuck her knees under her, head pressed against a blanket she'd laid out on the floor. "Yeah," she said, voice strained, gasping in shallow breaths.

"Spirits, are you alright?" he asked, subvocals laced heavily with concern. Leaning over, he settled his hand on her back. "EDI, lights!"

The lights flicked on, forcing him to blink against the glare despite expecting the sudden intrusion. Shepard's face scrunched up, and she tucked her head in more, bringing her chin to her chest.

"Shepard, do you require medical assistance?" EDI asked.

"No," Shepard said, her voice still strained, and she groaned again. "No, I'm good, just uh, give me a minute." She rolled her head to the side, looking at him with narrowed eyes, face contorted in pain. Reaching out, she slapped the back of her hand against his calf. "You stepped on me, you giant-footed asshole."

He chuckled, mandibles fluttering. "What are you doing in here?"

She let out a low whine, a deliberate sound based on the way she scrunched up her nose. "I  _thought_ I'd be safer in here with you."

"Safer?" His brow plates lifted, mandibles flaring wide. "Your cabin's not safe?"

She rolled onto her back, drawing her knees up, hands still resting on her stomach, red hair splayed out around her like a fiery halo. "On a Cerberus vessel?"

"Hmmm. Good point."

* * *

He laid on his cot, hands tucked under his head, thoughts drifting to Sidnois as the soft hum of the battery lulled him off to sleep. The door to the Main Battery hissed, and he opened his eyes, turning to look at the tiny human silhouetted in the door, blankets and pillows tucked under her arms.

"You awake?" Her voice was soft, hesitant, barely more than a whisper.

He suppressed a weary sigh. "Yeah. Coming in here to sleep?"

"You going to step on me again if I do?" Despite the cocky, teasing tone, there was something just beneath, a faint tremble to her words.

He flicked a mandible and sat up, legs spread, elbows resting on his knees. "Not if I know you're there." He glanced up at her, searching out her gaze cast in shadows. "Shepard … you can't ride out this war sleeping on my floor. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to know that you trust me enough to watch your six, even while we sleep, but …."

"No, it's okay. I get it, I'm invading your personal space." She turned her head, glancing back over her shoulder, the soft lights of the mess catching on her face. She looked so lost, and it made him feel like an ass. "Sorry, I'll go. Get some sleep, Garrus." Turning she walked away, the door sliding closed behind her.

He pushed up to his feet, crossing the floor and slapped his palm against the door's control release. "Shepard, wait."

She stopped, nearly to the steps leading down to the mess, and turned back around. Hope flitted across her green eyes as they met his, and she lifted an eyebrow. He jerked his head back towards the Main Battery, turning a little to clear the doorway. When she just stood there looking at him, her flat, little teeth gnawing at her lip, he sighed, lifting a hand to wave his fingers.

"Come on." He took a step back, angling himself toward his cot, still within the door's sensors to keep it open. "We'll figure it out in the morning. Set some traps or something in your cabin."

She grinned, walking back to the Main Battery. "You say the nicest things, Vakarian."

Chuckling, he waited for her to come back inside before letting the door close. He hummed, rubbing his hand over his fringe. "Do you, uh, do you want the cot?"

"Nah, I'm good on the floor. Bad enough I'm in here, don't need to take your bed, too."

* * *

"Garrus?"

He sucked in a slow breath, her scent invading his nostrils. It was everywhere, all over the Main Battery, he couldn't escape it, even when she wasn't in there with him. It was his fourth night on the new  _Normandy_  and his fourth night with his new roommate. He'd tried setting up traps for her in the foyer between the elevator and her cabin as well as inside the cabin itself, but EDI told Miranda, and Miranda 'pitched a fit' until Shepard caved and had him remove the traps. Her being there was slowly driving him insane.

It wasn't anything against Shepard, not really. He cared about her, respected her more than just about anyone in the entire galaxy. Hell, it nearly killed him when she died, and seeing her show up on Omega gave him the first spark of hope he'd felt in a long, long time. He wanted her to feel safe, he wanted her to be  _happy_. If anyone deserved it, she did. So, if there was something he could do to help her have that, then he would, and without complaint. But … he wasn't exactly in the best place. Wasn't exactly the same turian she learned to put her faith in before the attack on the old  _Normandy_. The last two years without her, trying to figure things out on his own, trying to make someone listen and take the reaper threat seriously … losing his team on Omega … it changed him. He wasn't so sure he deserved her faith, or anyone's for that matter.

"Garrus?" she said again, a little louder.

He'd hoped when he didn't answer the first time she'd think he was asleep and leave him be, let him ruminate and be miserable in peace. "Yeah?"

"I'm … I'm still me, right? You'd be able to tell if Cerberus did something to me, wouldn't you? Made me different somehow."

His brow plates folded in and he rolled over to look at her in the dark, finding her laying on her side, staring up at him. He watched her for a few moments, the sharp tang of her fear starting to pool around her as he took his time contemplating his answer. "You still smell like you. Well, you and now hot metal, too. You look the same, just with a few new, creepy, glowing scars. Hmmm, but I've got a few new scars myself."

She snorted, and he could see the lift of her lips in the little light coming from the battery's console. "That's not what I mean, but thanks. It's always nice hearing I look creepy."

He chuffed, mandible flicking in a grin, letting his humor settle into his subvocals. "Well, you  _are_ human."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Uh, I'll have you know, before I died and Cerberus brought me back looking like something out of a low-budget horror vid, I was quite attractive."

"I don't even know where to start with that sentence, Shepard." He hummed. "But if it helps, I think you're still you." Shifting, he hung his arm down over the edge of the cot, tapping his bare talon against the metal floor as he thought. "You still hate Cerberus. If they were going to change something about you, don't you think they'd make you more, hmmm, compliant towards them? And you're in here, sleeping next to an alien, because you feel safer with me than you do around any of them, right?"

"Yeah." Something in her voice told him she still wasn't so sure.

He stopped his tapping and just watched her for a moment. "You're still you, Shepard."

"Miranda said the Illusive Man wanted her to bring me back exactly as I was, but if she'd had her way, she would've put a control chip inside of me." She paused, tongue darting out of her mouth to lick her lips. "How do I know she really didn't?"

"Are you kidding?" He chuffed, flicking his wrist toward the door before letting his hand drop back to the floor. "Have you heard the way she talks? That woman isn't going against the Illusive Man's orders anytime soon."

Shepard reached out, stubby fingers wrapping around his and squeezed. "Thank you, Garrus." Tears glinted in her eyes, one breaking free to slide down her cheek, shimmering in the soft light.

His brow plates quirked, mandibles falling still. The gesture took him by surprise—especially while he wasn't wearing his gloves—just as much as seeing tears in her eyes. "Anytime, Shepard."

He closed his hand over hers, returning the gentle pressure, letting her hold on to him for as long as she wanted. It was kind of nice, actually. He wasn't exactly the touchy-feely type, not that he had anything against touch, he just didn't often find himself in those sorts of situations. She sniffled, bringing her other hand up to swipe at her face. Her hand was so smooth, so soft, with so much give against his hide, it intrigued him enough for him to indulge himself in brushing his thumb over the back of her hand just to feel the shift and pull of her skin. After a moment, her thumb moved, lightly pressing against the tip of his talon, as if she was just as curious about him.

* * *

Shepard laughed, and it brought a smile to his face. She'd come to the Main Battery quite a bit earlier than usual, a bottle of human-made rum tucked under her arm and a look of determination on her face. After popping it open and guzzling nearly a quarter of the bottle, she'd shoved it against his keel and told him to start drinking because she wasn't leaving until he told her what was bothering him. They'd spent the next three hours killing off the bottle together and just talking.

He'd already told her most of what happened on Omega after he joined up, but he didn't go too deep into the details. It hurt too much. Made him too angry. And the look of sympathy on her face, well, it didn't help anything at all. But she was right, he did need to get some of the crap off his chest, and the alcohol did help to loosen his tongue. Somewhere along the line, though, their conversation devolved into drunken banter and glory stories.

Her laughter died down, grin still plastered on her face, and she met his gaze. "You didn't?" She sat on the floor, back flat against the doorframe with one leg stretched out in front of her, the other bent. She draped her arm over her knee and watched him, pale skin flushed and eyes a little glassy.

"Damn right I did." He flared his mandibles, leaning back against the cool, metal wall behind him and drawing one of his legs up to rest his foot on the edge of his cot. He laughed, shaking his head. "The explosion was spectacular. I wish you'd been there to see it." As soon as the words left his mouth, he remembered  _why_  she wasn't there, and it hit him like a concussive shot straight to the gut. He hummed to keep the keen from rising up in his throat, mandibles drooping. "I really missed you, Shepard."

Something in her face shifted, eyebrows pulling down, eyes taking on a sad edge, and he thought maybe neither of them were any good at hiding their emotions while drinking. She pulled her other leg up, pushing her palm into the floor, and dragged herself up to her feet. Wobbling a little, she threw one of her arms out to the side, and he lunged forward, reaching out to help catch her, thinking she was about to fall.

She grinned, swatting at his hand. "I'm not that drunk." She gestured at his cot. "Can I sit with you?"

Brow plates shifting up, he shrugged, leaning back against the wall again. "Sure."

She eased onto the cot next to him, scooting all the way back, short, little legs stretched out in front of her, just barely reaching out over the edge. "What?" she asked, arching her eyebrows when he chuckled.

He flicked his mandible. "You're just so short."

She snorted. "Shut up," she said, reaching out and slapping his bare stomach with the back of her hand.

He let out a slight oomph, her knuckles catching him in the diaphragm, then reached across himself to shove her shoulder, laughing when she nearly toppled over.

"Maybe you're just freakishly tall." She grabbed his arm, using it to heave herself back upright. "Christ, why are you so hot? Are you running a fever?"

He chuffed, turning his head to look down at her and raised a brow plate. "I'm turian, we run hotter than humans. Everything from Palaven carries a higher core temperature, evolutionary necessity, same as our plates."

A slow smile slid over her face. "No wonder you were so whiney on Noveria."

He let out a soft rumble. "And you nearly passed out a few times on Therum."

Eyes widening, mouth hanging open, she sucked in a sharp breath of air. "I did not!"

"Right." He hummed, fighting to keep his voice flat, and flicked a mandible. "My visor must've been acting up. Giving me false readings."

She laughed again, bumping her shoulder against him. "Shut up." Her gaze trailed over his face, snagging on the bandages covering the shredded mess the rocket left behind, smile faltering before her gaze flicked back to his eyes. "Does it still hurt?"

"Yeah," he said, lifting his shoulder in a shrug, "but, hmmm, it's manageable." It wasn't a complete lie, it was mostly manageable, but he didn't need her worrying about him.

She swallowed, her eyes starting to look a little wet. Her voice came out strangled when she said, "You scared the shit out of me."

"I know." He remembered the panic in her voice, the way she knelt next to him, her hand on his hip and waist, helping him to roll over as he gasped for air, choking on his own blood. The desperate look in her eyes as the sights of Omega faded around him wasn't something he'd  _ever_  forget. "I'm sorry." He lifted his hand, moving the point of a talon through the air just above her face, tracing the line of one of her glowing scars. "These hurt?"

"Yeah, but not as bad as you might think." She watched him for a few seconds, a light blush creeping over her cheeks, scent taking on an unfamiliar, soft, musky tone. "You have really pretty eyes."

He let out a quick bark of laughter, surprised and maybe a little embarrassed by the compliment, confused by the change in her scent. "You're drunk."

She grinned. "Yeah, but you still have pretty eyes. It's been kind of nice, coming down here at night when you're not wearing your visor. Let's me get a good look at them."

He fluttered his mandibles and cleared his throat. "Well, thanks. You, uh, you have pretty eyes, too." And she did, they were such a vibrant shade of green, and the only other person who'd ever been able to pin him in place with a single glance was his father. Though when his father looked at him … it didn't feel anything like the way it felt just then with Shepard's gaze locked onto his.

* * *

The sounds of her whimpers yanked him from sleep, heart pounding in his chest. He rolled over, looking down at the floor where she lay, muttering to herself, curled up with her back to him. "Shepard?"

She didn't say anything or even glance over her shoulder. He watched her for a minute, realizing she was still asleep. She whimpered again, flipping over to her back, hands reaching up to claw at her throat. He caught a whiff of her blood and realized she'd actually broken her own skin.

He reached out, grabbing her shoulder and gave her a little shake. "Shepard," he said again, a little more force and urgency in his voice.

She gasped, eyes snapping open, chest heaving. Fingers fumbling, she found his hand on her shoulder and clung to him as a sob tore through her throat, tears springing to life in her eyes. He frowned, admittedly confused and a little scared. A soft, worried trill seeped out of him, and he sat up, tugging his hand free from her in the process.

"EDI, give us a little light," Garrus said.

Shepard scrambled upright as the lights came on, brushing at her face and sucking in slow, deliberate breaths, gaze turned away from him. "Sorry," she muttered, barely coherent enough for his translator to pick up.

Shifting a little closer to the edge of the cot, a little closer to her, he reached out and put his hand back on her shoulder. "What happened? What's wrong?"

She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "Just a nightmare. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Spirits." He rubbed his free hand over his face. "You're bleeding."

She brought a hand to her neck and then shrugged, the bones of her shoulder lifting up into his palm, making his fingers twitch with the urge to trace over those harder places. "It's just a scratch."

He hummed, gaze drifting over the marks at her throat. "What were you dreaming about," he asked, voice soft, thinking he already knew the answer. He pushed himself up from the cot, stepping around her to retrieve the first aid kit off his workstation and brought it back over. He squatted down in front of her, opening the kit before meeting her gaze.

She snorted, raising an eyebrow at him, the sarcastic look losing its impact with tears still drying on her face. "Seriously, Vakarian? It's a scratch."

He flicked his mandible, digging out one of the antiseptic wipes and tearing open the package, the harsh scent of alcohol stinging at his nose. "Humor me. I won't be able to get back to sleep with the smell of your blood lingering in the air."

"Oh." The word was soft, her scent taking on the bitter traces of guilt. She tilted her head back, exposing her throat to him with ease.

He swallowed, telling his half-asleep brain that it wasn't an act of submission and she was  _not_ a potential mate offering herself to him. "You're not going to tell me what your nightmare was about?" he asked, distracting himself as he ran the swab over the scratch marks.

"Alchera," she said, and it was all she needed to say.


	2. Just for Being You

**Just for Being You**

He'd given up completely on the idea of her sleeping in her own room. Maybe ever. She even started storing a bedroll beneath his cot instead of carrying everything back and forth from her cabin each night. He very well might have to spend the rest of his life with the great Commander Shepard sleeping on his floor next to his bed. So much for ever getting laid again. Hell, he could barely even find enough time alone to try and work out some of his tension on his own.

But, he admitted, it was kind of nice having her around so much. They'd developed their own nightly rituals of sorts. Most nights, she'd come down around twenty-two hundred hours, already dressed for bed in her N7 tank top and loose, black pants that hung low on her waist, hip bones poking out over the top. He'd caught himself staring more than once as she spread out her bedroll and then did some light stretches, twisting and turning with impressive flexibility before laying down for the night. Then she'd lay there, hands tucked under her head watching him while he finished up his work, making idle conversation. Finally, he'd strip down to his undersuit pants, stepping over her to climb onto his cot and tell EDI to kill the lights. As soon as it was dark, they'd start talking. Really talking. Saying all the things they never spoke about with anyone else, especially with the lights on.

She told him about her childhood before the batarian raiders came and either killed or captured everyone she knew and loved. Her little brother, Michael, had been born with a neurological disorder she called autism, and the batarian slavers didn't even bother with trying to enslave him once they realized he had the disorder. His death pained her even more than her parents' deaths. She said she was always really protective of him, and she still blamed herself for not being able to save him. When he asked, she told him more about autism and how it affected Michael.

She'd asked about his family, so he told her about his parents and Sol; what it was like growing up in his father's shadow. He talked about his mother's diagnosis of Corpalis Syndrome, and how painful it was knowing she was degenerating and he wasn't there to help her. When she asked if he wanted her to take him back to Palaven, he told her no, he'd just be in the way there and with Shepard, he was actually doing something useful with his life. He talked about saving everything he still had from Omega and whatever he got working with Shepard so he could make donations to the Helos Medical Institute. She suggested he talk to Mordin, thinking the salarian might have some ideas or be able to pull a few strings.

They'd talked about his early years in C-Sec, and he asked about Akuze and the Skyllian Blitz. Sometimes they talked about past missions or strategized for the war. They discussed the collectors, and the team she was building to go through the Omega 4 Relay. A few times, they just talked about their people, noting the differences and similarities between humans and turians.

"This floor sucks," she said, pulling him from his musings.

"You realize you could requisition another cot to have brought in here." He hummed, considering the logistics and trying not to think about how easily he just accepted the idea of taking steps to make her presence in the Main Battery more of a permanent one. "There's not a lot of room, so we'd probably have to find someplace to store it during the day. Guess I could flip it upside down and put it on top of mine."

"Or …." She trailed off.

He knew her well enough to realize she was baiting him, setting him up to push her into finishing her thought. "Or?" He rolled over so he could look down at her, letting his arm hang over the edge.

She shrugged but didn't turn her head to look at him. "You could start sleeping in my cabin with me. There's couches up there, but if those aren't comfortable, there's plenty of room for a cot." She scoffed, pulling one of her hands out from under her head to wave in the air. "Hell, the bed's …." She stopped, tucking her hand back under her head and clearing her throat. "I guess I really should just suck it up and let you have your quarters back."

He didn't say anything. He couldn't. He just lay there staring at her, mandibles flared, desperately wanting to know how the rest of her sentence would've gone, but he didn't have the courage to give her the nudge she needed to finish. Spirits, when exactly did he start feeling something for her? He always  _liked_  her, admired her even, but more and more, his thoughts about her were shifting to someplace entirely  _not_  about being her friend or subordinate. Hell, she wasn't even turian. Not that her species was a particular problem for him, lots of species intermingled, uh, recreationally, but he'd never been with anyone other than a turian, never really even thought about it.

_Until now._

She rolled over, putting her back to him and stretched her arm out under her pillow. "I'll sleep upstairs tomorrow night."

* * *

The first night without her wasn't so bad. Despite feeling like an idiot and maybe a little bit of an ass, he'd managed to fall asleep without too much trouble. The second night was a little harder, the  _Normandy's_ air filtration system nearly completely erased her scent from the Main Battery, especially without her bedroll tucked away beneath his cot. The third night, though … by the third night, he was miserable. He missed her. He thought he wanted his space back, his solitude, but it just left him feeling alone and empty.

She'd told him he could sleep in her cabin, so why didn't he just go up there? To hell with it, he was going. If she didn't want him in there, she wouldn't have made the offer. He stood up and asked EDI to turn on the lights before slipping his undersuit shirt back on. Grabbing his blanket and pillow, he rolled them up and stuck them under his arm before leaving the Main Battery.

He made it all the way to the elevator before he started feeling nervous and doubtful, but he pushed the damn button anyway and stepped inside when the doors opened. Taking a deep breath, he rode the elevator up to the top deck. When the elevator stopped, he lingered there for a moment, working steel into his spine before crossing the few feet between him and her cabin door. He raised his hand to knock, but the door slid open before he made contact. Flaring his mandibles, he glanced inside the dimly lit room, taking in the glowing fish tank to his left.

"Need the light on to find the couch?" Her voice floated up to him from deeper inside.

He chuffed, a smile spreading his mandibles. "I think I can manage."

"Watch for the stairs."

He took a few steps inside, gaze sweeping over the outlines of a desk and the silhouettes of model ships in a display case before focusing on the darker recesses of the room. He could just make out the shape of a bed down below. "I see them."

He made his way down, pausing again at the foot of the stairs to glance around, picking out the shape of a couch to his right. Shepard lay on the bed, curled around a little to watch him, the light of the aquarium just barely catching on the whites of her eyes, making them look a soft blue. He moved to the couch, tossing his pillow down against the arm and sat down.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, and he heard the smile in her voice.

Fluttering his mandibles, he turned, laying back and throwing his feet up on the couch before pulling the blanket down over him. "Yeah … me, too."

* * *

He thought she was having another nightmare. He lay there for a minute, listening to her muttering in her sleep, tossing and turning on her bed across the room. "Shepard," he called out to her when she groaned, but she didn't respond. Throwing the covers back, he stood up and crossed the floor to squat down in front of her bed, gently shaking her shoulder. "Shepard."

Her eyes snapped open, locking on to him. "Garrus? What's wrong?"

She seemed instantly alert, sitting up to sweep the room with her gaze. She tossed her blankets off of her and swung her legs around, hand reaching for the pistol on her nightstand, and that's when her scent hit him, slapping him hard in the face. The same musky scent he'd caught on her before a few times, but so much stronger … coming from right between her legs.

_Oh._

He cleared his throat, pushing back to his feet, suddenly feeling completely awkward and out of place. "Nothing, sorry." He managed to make his mouth move, the words tumbling from him in a near stutter. "I thought you were having another nightmare." He found himself taking shallow sniffs of the air around her, pulling the scent in and rolling it on the back of his tongue. "Are you, hmmm. Are you okay?"

_Spirits._

The soft, almost bittersweet aroma of her embarrassment filled the air, but it wasn't enough to hide the  _other_ scent. The scent that the more he thought about, the more he felt an uncomfortable pressure behind his plates. She let out a soft chuckle and stood, patting his shoulder as she walked by, headed for the stairs.

"Yeah, I'm good." She made her way to the top of the stairs, and then, almost too soft for him to hear, she said, "I  _definitely_  wouldn't call it a nightmare." A moment later, the bathroom door hissed open, the light flooding the area.

As soon as it closed behind her, he sucked in a deep breath, savoring the scent and groaned, rubbing a hand over his face and crest. "Spirits. What are you doing, Garrus?" He turned, trudging back to the couch and laid down, tugging the blanket back up over him and squeezed his eyes closed, willing himself back to sleep.

* * *

Listening to her pretend not to cry, he really regretted not breaking Kaidan's nose. He knew the man's words cut her deep while they were still on Horizon, but she kept her face neutral, held on to that iron-forged will of hers with a deadly grip. Garrus had wanted to take her aside, ask her if she was alright, but he didn't dare. He knew her well enough to know she needed to maintain that professional distance and control, at least while still on duty and around the rest of the crew.

That night, when he came up to her cabin to sleep, he'd found her sitting on the edge of her bed, elbows on her knees, fingers fisted around handfuls of her hair. He sat down next to her, rumbling in his chest, a sound that comforted other turians, but he didn't really know if it helped her at all or not. She'd leaned against him, and he turned, putting his arms around her and pulling her to his chest. That one, at least, he knew humans found comforting, too.

He really should've punched Kaidan, hell, maybe even shot him in the foot for using Garrus' presence as a weapon against Shepard. Kaidan left her not only doubting if she was doing the right thing, working with Cerberus long enough to take down the collectors, but he also left her doubting having Garrus by her side. As if there was anywhere else he'd be once she showed up, alive and kicking ass, on Omega. He never expected it from Kaidan, not with the level of vitriol he dished out at least, especially not with the way the human sniffed around after Shepard on the old  _Normandy_.

Garrus expected her to cry while he held her, but she didn't. She'd just buried her face against him, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, and asked if she'd made the right choice. He tried reassuring her, said everything he could think of to let her know she was doing what she had to in order to help her people, and he supported her one-hundred percent. He wasn't sure if she believed him, though, and after a few minutes, she said she just wanted to go to sleep and forget the day ever happened.

But then, a few minutes after the lights were out and he was settled onto the couch, she started crying. He could tell she didn't want him to know, fought to keep it quiet, but he damn near tasted the salt of her tears in the air and heard the occasional shudder of her breath. It just made him more and more angry at Kaidan. The man had no idea,  _no idea_ , how much she already struggled and how hard she fought to keep it all together. And not for her sake, either, but for everyone else. Always for everyone else.

His anger gave him the courage he needed. He wadded his blanket up and shoved it under his arm, stood up, and grabbed his pillow. Making his way to the side of her bed, he met her gaze, and she wiped her eyes but didn't say anything. Sucking in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sour scent of her anguish, he waved his hand. "Move over."

He expected her to protest, but she didn't. Tugging at the blankets, she scooted over, leaving enough room for him to lay down next to her. Pushing her covers aside, he sat down, adjusting his pillow over the ones already behind him. Laying back, he shook his blanket out over his legs and shifted his arm, reaching for her. She eased in against his side, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in closer. Sniffling, she laid her face against his chest, wriggled around until she found a comfortable spot, and then tucked her arms in against his side.

He let out a soft rumble, running his fingers along the bare skin of her arm. "Forget about Kaidan. He doesn't know what he's talking about, Shepard. No one who really knows you could ever believe, for even a minute, that you're not just doing what you have to do to stop the collectors."

She didn't say anything, but he felt her tears sliding down his keel. Her chest heaved, shoulders shaking, and she sucked in a deep breath, letting it slip back out of her with a shudder. He rumbled again, rubbing her arm in slow, soothing strokes. After a few minutes, her breathing started to settle down, the cool drops against his plates slowing to a stop. He didn't let her go, though, he just kept rubbing her arm.

She sighed, shifting one of her arms to settle her hand down on his cowl, fingers curling in over the edge, pulling a soft purr from him. "Thank you, Garrus. For being here for me, and just … just for being you."


	3. You're the Best

**You're the Best**

Shepard lay on her side, arm stretched out under her pillows, wrist resting on top of his. "Come on, admit it!" She reached over, shoving playfully at his keel. "You were happy to see Wrex."

He loved how comfortable she'd grown to be with him, how frequently and easily she touched him. Spirits, they were even sharing a bed regularly as if it was no big deal at all. Maybe it wasn't for her, but he'd woken up a couple of times over the past couple of weeks with her face pressed against the side of his keel and her arm slung over his waist. He thought it had to mean  _something_. They didn't fall asleep that way, not since the first night he'd slept in her bed. He savored those quiet moments, feeling her cool skin pressed against him until she woke up and laughed at herself, making some joke about being drawn to his warmth in her sleep 'like a moth to a flame'.

He knew word circulated among the crew, knew they thought he and she were a couple, and honestly, he didn't care. She didn't seem to mind, either. Neither of them bothered to correct the misunderstanding. Truth was, he wanted to be with her, he just hadn't found the way to tell her yet and dreaded losing what they did have if she decided she wasn't interested in going there with him. She meant too much to him for him to want to risk anything coming between them. No matter what else, she was his best friend. The first person to really believe in him, treat him like he meant something, like his life mattered and he was somehow … special. She valued him, valued his insight and opinion. He didn't want to lose that.

"Hmmmm." He fluttered his mandibles as if he really had to think about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess it was good to see the old man."

"I'm proud of him," she said, and he smelled it on her, thick and rich. "He's really come far. If anyone can pull the krogan clans together, it's Wrex."

Before meeting Shepard, he would've called such a thing impossible. With her, though, he'd seen impossible. He watched her kick impossible in the teeth on a daily basis, then shoot it in the knee just for good measure. If she thought Wrex could really pull it off, then who the hell was he to doubt her instincts. "You think he'll really do it?"

"Mmm. Maybe." She shrugged her shoulder, pulling it up nearly to her ear. "I hope so. When the reapers get here, we're going to need everyone working together. If he can get the clans to unite, we might just stand a chance." She pulled in a deep breath, chewing on her lip. "What about the turians, you think anything will convince them the threat is real?"

"With the Council denying it?" He lifted his hand, letting it drop back down to the mattress between them. "I don't know. But when the reapers show up, you can bet we'll be the first ones ready and on the frontlines."

She looked at him, but her gaze didn't hold steady, and he realized she had trouble tracking his eyes in the dark. She licked her lip and asked, "Even you?"

"I, uh, I kind of thought I'd be with you. Wherever you are." He chuckled, reaching out to close his fingers over hers. "Which probably means right in the middle of it, surrounded on all sides, blowing things up."

Turning her hand a little, she tucked his fingers into her palm, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. "I can't say I'm not happy as hell to hear you say that, but you know, when shit gets bad, I'll understand if you want to be with your people, Garrus."

He purred at her touch, shifting it into a hum out of embarrassment. "After helping you to take down Sovereign when nobody else would listen, going with you now after the collectors when no one else is doing anything about it …. Shepard, if anything or anyone is going to win us this war, it's going to be you, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be when the time comes than helping you find a way to end the reapers."

* * *

After listening to the debrief from her time on Aite, Garrus understood perfectly well why Shepard came back snarling, smelling spicy and full of rage. He did, however, find it a little surprising she still smelled furious hours later with the Typhon System well behind them. She lay in the bed next to him, fuming. He watched her, waiting for her next outburst.

"I mean, what kind of sick sonofabitch looks at his own brother—worse, his  _autistic_ brother—and thinks, 'You know, I think I'll hook him up to a torture machine to see if he can control the geth'? For fuck's sake!" She turned her head to look at him, brow pulled in tight, creating little creases all along her forehead. Her lip lifted in a silent snarl. "How twisted do you really have to be to do something like that?"

It angered him, too. In fact, if he'd been down there with her, he probably would've shot the scientist responsible before she even had the chance to decide whether to let the filth live or die. It impressed him that she had the willpower to  _not_ pull her trigger on the man, especially knowing every time she looked at David, she thought of her own brother. It made Garrus even more pissed off  _for_ her. She seemed pretty wound tight, though. She didn't usually hold on to things for so long; she compartmentalized the crap she saw out on the field to save her sanity. Every soldier did, anyone in it as long as her, at least. No way was she going to get any sleep if she didn't find a way to let some of it go.

He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Come on."

"What?"

"Come on, get up." He stood, turning to look back down at her. "Let's go down to the hangar."

She cocked an eyebrow, dragging the word out when she asked, "Why?"

"Because you're not going to sleep until you blow off some steam. You need to hit something, burn off some of the rage you're holding on to." He held his arm out toward the door. "So let's go down there, go a few rounds on the mats, see if it helps."

She huffed, letting out a soft chuckle. "There aren't any mats down there."

"Yeah, I know. Figure of speech." Pressing his knee into the bed, he leaned over and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, giving her a half-assed tug to get her up and moving. "The hangar's got the most open ground, though. Less of a chance of us knocking anything over and breaking something. What do you say?"

She snorted, her arm dead weight in his grip. "You  _want_  me to kick your ass?"

He chuckled, pulling at her again. "Come on, Shepard. Give me a little credit. I'll have you know, I was one of the top-ranking hand-to-hand specialists back in my days with the military."

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow, one corner of her mouth lifting up in a smirk.

"Yeah." He let go of her arm when she pulled back.

She sat up, the covers slipping away. "Alright, Vakarian. Let's go."

He grinned, mandibles fluttering with his victory. "Let me grab my gloves and a shirt."

She scoffed, climbing out of bed. "Why bother? A shirt's not going to provide you any protection. Or are you feeling self-conscious?"

"Hmmm." He moved over to the coffee table where he'd tossed his shirt and gloves down before going to bed, and the lights turned on in the room, dim and unobtrusive. "Well, I need the gloves to make sure I don't accidentally cut you, but the shirt …." He grabbed his undersuit shirt, pulling it on over his head. "Most of the Cerberus crew still look at me like I'm …. I'm just not really comfortable moving around the ship without a shirt." He picked up his gloves. He figured the less he flaunted his differences as a turian to the Cerberus crew, the better. "Hell, I'm not comfortable moving around the ship without armor and my assault rifle within easy reach, but I've got to take it off  _sometime_ , right?"

Reaching behind her to pull her hair up in what she called a 'ponytail', she crossed the floor to stand next to him. "Is someone on the ship giving you trouble? Threatening you? I swear to God, I'll throw them out the airlock."

Laughing, he shook his head and smiled at her, pulling on his gloves. "No, no one's threatening me or anything like that. I just make most of them uneasy, and they make me uneasy."

Her face stilled, a tell-tale sign she kept something hidden from him. "What about Kelly?"

Confused, brow plates dipping, he fluttered his mandibles. "What about her?"

Shepard grinned, but it had a sharp edge to it. Reaching out, she pushed his shoulder a little. "I think she likes you, Garrus. Don't know if you have a thing for humans or not, but she's into you."

She smelled … he didn't know for sure what the tangy scent was, but he thought it might be jealousy. He chuffed and shook his head. Maybe he just wanted it to be jealousy.

"Funny. I thought she had a thing for you. She talks about you all the time." Humming, he watched her brow twitch, the corners of her mouth tighten. He thought there was definitely something more to her statement than she wanted to let on. He just wasn't sure what. "As for having a thing for humans, hmm, I've never, ah, been involved with a human. I'm not opposed to the idea, but I don't think I'm," he said, chuffing again and scratching at the plates just under his eye, "interested in literally crawling into bed with Cerberus."

She chuckled her shoulders relaxing a little as she patted him on the arm and turned for the stairs. "Alright, let's go blow off some steam."

"What about you?" He wanted to kick himself for asking, but he had to know. "You ever been involved with a turian?" He followed her toward the stairs.

"No," she said, dragging the word out into a hum. She stopped at the top and glanced over her shoulder at him, holding his gaze in the dim light of the fish tank. "But I'm not opposed to the idea, either." Something about the look in her eyes nearly made him miss the first step.

* * *

Garrus found the traitorous sonofabitch. Well, a lead, anyway. "EDI, where's Shepard?"

"Shepard is currently in Life Support with Thane," EDI said, the slight, electronic quality to her voice ringing through his head.

His hand froze over his omni-tool. She'd been spending more and more downtime with Thane. Sure, she always made her rounds, checked in with everyone, especially after big missions, but it seemed like she spent more time with the drell than anyone else. Well, besides for Garrus, of course. Still, maybe she had a thing for Thane. Garrus couldn't blame her, the assassin was pretty damn impressive, and Garrus  _was_  taking his sweet time telling her how he felt about her. Was that why she mentioned Kelly to him the other day? Maybe she thought if he had an interest in the yeoman, he'd give her the space to pursue something with Thane, and then she wouldn't have to tell him she didn't want him around anymore.

"Hmmm." He fluttered his mandibles, closing his omni-tool and looking down at the battery's console. "Will you let her know I need to speak with her as soon as she's free?"

"Of course."

He didn't have to wait long, maybe twenty minutes, before Shepard walked into the Main Battery, a frown etched into her face. "Hey. EDI said you needed to talk to me?"

"Yeah." He studied her for a second, testing the air around her and picking up on a smorgasbord of scents. There were too many emotions coming off her for him to suss out what exactly bothered her, but none of them seemed especially strong. "Is, hmm, is everything alright? You seem a little upset."

She moved to sit on his abandoned cot, waving a dismissive hand through the air. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just wrapping my head around something Thane told me."

Garrus hummed, turning to rest his hip against the console. "You seem to spend a lot of time with him."

"Do I?" She arched an eyebrow and then shrugged. "I guess he's got a calming presence." Odd, she didn't smell very calm.

He pulled at the air again, searching for the musky aroma he thought of as a sign of her arousal or any hint of Thane's scents on her, but he only smelled the same traces of conflicting emotions. Still …. "Shepard, you know if you need me to sleep down here …" he said, waving his hand, "… not that I mind sleeping in your cabin, but if you want some time to …."

Eyebrows shooting up, she laughed. "Garrus, are you trying to ask me if I'm hooking up with Thane?"

He chuffed, letting out a soft chuckle and scratching his facial plates. "I forget sometimes you're not turian. I know the two of you haven't actually, uh, hmm." He waved his hand again. "I'd be able to smell it on you. But with as much time as you spend with him …. Look, all I'm saying is I know our sleeping arrangements aren't exactly standard protocol, and I know half the ship thinks you and I are 'hooking up,'" he said, making finger-quotes in the air—an amusing gesture he'd seen humans do many times. "I just don't want to stand in the way of anything."

Shepard smiled, stretching her arms out behind her to lean on her palms and threw one of her legs up to rest on the other knee. "There's nothing between Thane and I for you to stand in the way of, Garrus." She smelled amused, though he didn't know what exactly she found so funny. "But if you've grown uncomfortable with our sleeping arrangements," she said with a shrug, "I confess I think I've reached a point where I'll be okay on my own. I still want you there, but it's not because I don't feel safe without you."

His mandibles fluttered, relief making him feel a little weak in the knees. It would've hurt like hell if she'd asked him to back off so she could spend more time with Thane, but he had to ask, needed to give her the chance to say so if it was what she wanted.

Her gaze swept over his face for a moment, lips parted like she still had something else to say. "I just like having you there. It's nice having someone to talk to as I fall asleep and not waking up alone. I don't give two shits what anyone else on this ship thinks about it, but if it's starting to feel awkward for you, just say so."

"No, not at all." He moved to sit on the cot next to her as he considered the implications. She didn't  _need_  him there, but she  _wanted_ him there. If he stayed, he'd be admitting he stuck around because he  _wanted_  to be next to her. Was he ready for that? Was she? "I like being there, too."

"Good." She sat forward and leaned against his shoulder for a moment. "Is this all you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No," he said, surprised he'd actually almost forgotten why he'd wanted to talk to her, but he also felt a little disappointed by the shift in the conversation. It seemed like they'd agreed he'd continue to share her cabin, but they didn't really talk about what it meant if anything. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. "I found a lead on Sidonis. I could really use your help, Shepard."

She hummed and turned, pulling one of her knees up on the cot to face him. "Alright, let's hear it."

"Sidnois was seen with someone who calls himself Fade, on the Citadel." He turned a little, angling himself toward her, his knee pressed against her leg. "Fade's some sort of specialists, he helps people who don't want to be found to disappear." He held out a hand as if it might help him present his case to her, convince her that he'd found the right trail and it was worth pursuing, even though he knew Shepard would never turn him away. "If Sidonis was with him, it's got to mean Fade helped him vanish and knows where I can find him."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "Thane needs to stop by the Citadel for a personal thing, too. It seems kind of urgent, so we're headed there as soon as we're done with Samara's thing on Omega. Figure out the logistics, we'll have a talk with this Fade guy."

"I'll have my contacts set up a meeting with him." He reached over, taking her hand between both of his. "Thank you, Shepard. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

She squeezed his fingers, bringing her other hand up to rest on his armored shoulder. "I get it. Whatever you need, Garrus. You just have to ask, you know that."

"Yeah." He nodded, brushing his thumb over her wrist. "Yeah, I do. Same goes for you."

_Anything, Shepard. Anything._

* * *

He'd been hanging out in the cockpit, answering the pilot's questions about the Thanix cannon upgrades, when Joker got word Shepard headed back to the ship with Samara and Mordin. Garrus had offered to go with her since he knew Omega, but she wanted him to stay on the ship and out of sight in case there were any mercs left keeping an eye out for him. He didn't like the idea of Shepard out there on Omega without him, but at least she took Mordin with her. The old Salarian understood just what kind of pisshole Omega really was, and he'd watch out for her.

Garrus made his way to the airlock and leaned against the wall, waiting for it to open. She looked shaken and exhausted when she came aboard, and it dropped an iron weight into his stomach. Pushing off the wall, he went to her, mandibles fluttering when she looked up at him.

He put a hand on her shoulder, holding her gaze, voice low when he asked, "Shepard, are you alright?"

Faint hints of her musk and the tang of fear lingered around her, a strange and unnerving combination. "I will be." She sucked in a deep breath. "I think I just need a hot shower and to go to bed."

Nodding his head, mandibles fluttering, he hummed and asked, "You want me to bring you up something to eat?"

Shoulder slumping under his hand, she flashed him a smile. "That would be fantastic."

"You got it." He grinned, flaring his mandibles. "I'll come up with you, help you get your armor off first."

She patted his hand on her shoulder, but she still seemed shaken, uneasy and off. "Thanks, Garrus."

He flicked a mandible, using his grip on her to turn her toward the elevator. "Anytime."

They took the elevator up to her cabin in silence, but he kept his eye on her. As soon as they were inside, she started unholstering her weapons. He took them from her, carrying them over to the cabinet she kept them in when they weren't in the armory.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, moving back to her to help with her armor.

She held her arms out, clearing the way for him to get at the clasps running down along her sides. "Have you ever heard of an Ardat-Yakshi?"

He thought about it for a moment while he worked at her armor and then shook his head. "It sounds vaguely familiar, but I'm not sure."

"They're asari born with some sort of genetic disorder. When they meld, they kill their partners. Fry out their brains somehow, they can't help it." She turned a little as he popped the last clasp, separating the backplate from the breastplate, letting him pull both pieces of the cuirass free from her torso. "The only way to avoid it is for them to not meld at all, but apparently, it gives them a great high and they just crave it even more." She worked at her arms, glancing down at him as he dropped to his knee to remove her cuisses and greaves. "Most of them don't know they have this disorder until after they've already killed someone. Samara said when an Ardat-Yakshi is discovered, they're given the option to live a chaste life at a monastery or die. Sometimes one makes a run for it, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake, and has to be hunted down."

"That's what Samara was after?" Collecting the pieces of armor scattered around him, he pushed to his feet and stacked them on top of her cuirass, gathering the bundle into his arms. "An Ardat-Yakshi?"

"Yeah," she said, following him over to her cabinet to stow her armor.

He tucked the armload inside when she opened the drawer. "I'm guessing you found her."

"We did, and she's dead now." She tossed the rest in and closed the cabinet again.

He turned, leaning against the wall to cross his arms. "So, what's got you so shaken up?"

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a huff. "Besides playing bait for a psychotic killer, following her back to her apartment pretty much unarmed and in casual dress, and then very nearly being sucked in by her … charms before Samara showed up?"

"Wait, what?" he asked, brow plates dipping low, hide along his spine itching.

She shook her head, sucking in another deep breath. "She was strong, Garrus. There's something about an Ardat-Yakshi that just sort of pulls you in, makes you want to be with them, do whatever they ask. Even though I knew what she was, what would happen if she melded with me, it's like … for a few seconds, I had trouble caring."

He hummed, giving her a once over from head to toe. "But you're okay, right? She didn't meld with you, you weren't hurt?"

"No, I was able to resist." Shepard shrugged. "Somehow. But …."

He flicked a mandible. "What?"

She bit her lip, chewing at the corner before saying, "Morinth was Samara's daughter."

Mandibles falling still, his eyes widened. He did  _not_ expect that. "Spirits."

She rubbed her hand over her forehead, reaching back to pull the elastic tie from her hair. "Yeah, but don't … don't say anything to her about it."

"Of course not." He put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a little squeeze before nudging her toward the stairs. "Go on, get your shower. I'll have something waiting for you when you get out."

She grabbed the yoke of his armor, tugging him down as she pushed up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. "Thanks. You're the best."

He chuckled, mandibles fluttering wildly. He watched her disappear into the bathroom and heard the shower start before he turned and left the cabin. It only took him a few minutes to run down to the mess and have Gardner put something together, but by the time he got back to the cabin, she'd already turned the water off in the bathroom. He took the tray down to the coffee table and looked up when he heard the hiss of the door opening, the air filling with the scents of her soaps.

She made her way downstairs and smiled at him, skin still a little pink from her shower. She sat down and uncovered the tray. "I know it's still kind of early, but do you mind hanging out up here for the night? You don't have to go to bed, too, if you're not ready. It'd just be nice to have you here."

"Sure. I tell you what." He pushed himself forward to the edge of the couch, preparing to stand. "Why don't I go ahead and take a shower, then I'll run your tray back down when I'm out. When I get back, we can watch a vid or something until you fall asleep."

She smiled at him, transforming the hard lines of her face into something soft and sweet. "Sounds perfect."


	4. I Love You, Too

**I Love You, Too**

He was drunk. Really drunk. But it wasn't enough. He had Sidonis in his sights, and he'd let the traitor go. He'd let Shepard convince him to at least hear what Sidnois had to say, not thinking it'd make any difference, but then … then he couldn't pull the trigger. He'd let his whole team down—again. He asked Shepard for his space, and she agreed, but only after telling him she thought he did the right thing.

Did he do the right thing? If Sidonis spoke the truth, then he was a coward … but he didn't act with malice. He didn't turn on the team, he just sold them out to save his own hide. Garrus still wanted to kill him, but maybe … maybe it wasn't the right thing to do. He felt so confused. Spirits, he needed to talk it through with Shepard. She was the only one who could possibly help him, despite feeling like he might've made a huge mistake because he didn't want to disappoint her.

He stood up, more than a little unsteady on his feet, and pulled his undersuit shirt back on. He nearly stumbled down the steps to the mess hall, expecting the place to be empty, but found those two humans from Engineering sitting at one of the tables.

The man … Donnelly was his name, took one look at Garrus and let out a laugh, pushing up to his feet. "You look a little wobbly there, Garrus. Too much to drink?"

"Don't tease him, Kenneth. I've had to drag your ass back after one too many countless times." Daniels hid a smile behind a coffee cup.

"I'm not making fun. I'm trying to make sure he doesn't fall over." Donnelly turned his attention back to Garrus. "Here, let me help you. Are you going up to the loft?"

"Thanks." Garrus hummed, waving off the man's offer. "I can make it on my own."

"Are you sure?" Donnelly shrugged. "I don't mind helping. Might even get a chance to take a peek at the loft. I hear it's pretty amazing up there."

Garrus chuckled, swaying on his feet a little. "It is pretty impressive, but I'm good. Thanks." He kept moving, making his way to the elevator and pushed the button before leaning against the wall next to the doors. As soon as he got upstairs and the door to her cabin opened, he realized just how late it was, the lights inside were already off.

"Damn it," he said, stumbling inside and catching himself on the fish tank.

"Garrus?" Her voice reached out to him, instantly soothing something inside of him, despite the hint of fear and confusion he heard there.

"Yeah. It's me, sorry." He pushed off the fish tank, taking another two steps forward before listing to the side again.

"You alright?"

"Hmmm." He slapped his palm against the fish tank again, barely keeping himself from tilting forward and losing his balance. "I think I drank more than I realized. Having a little trouble walking here."

She let out a soft chuckle, and then the sounds of covers shifting and her climbing out of bed floated up to him. A few seconds later, she appeared at the foot of the stairs, bathed in blue light from the fish tank. Spirits, she looked beautiful. She stopped, glancing up at him, a grin on her face. "Need some help, big guy?"

He flicked his mandibles, holding an arm out toward her before letting it drop again. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I just …."

She moved up the stairs, pulling one of his arms over her shoulder and sliding her arm around his waist, moving him toward the stairs. "Got shitfaced and decided you needed to talk about Sidonis after all?"

He flicked his mandible. "Exactly."

Her hand squeezed his waist, sending a shock of desire through him, and he let out a little groan. She stopped, glancing up at him. "You okay?"

He cleared his throat, reaching down to grab her hand and move it up a little higher, closer to his ribs. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

Her brow furrowed, the question clear in her eyes, but she brushed it off and eased him down the stairs. "So, what's on your mind?"

Chuffing, he let out a heavy sigh. "I feel like I failed them by not pulling the trigger, Shepard." He flung his hand out in exasperation, nearly making them both fall in the process.

She let out a soft laugh, pulling at him to keep him on his feet. "Bed or couch?"

"Bed," he said, the word coming out more of a grumble.

"You didn't fail them, Garrus." Her thumb rubbed back and forth against his arm over her shoulder, voice low and soothing. "Sometimes plans change when we have more information."

She walked him around to his side of the bed. Spirits, he  _had_  a side of the bed. Of  _her_ bed.

"What Sidonis did was terrible, I'm not arguing that, but you saw how miserable he is. It wasn't something he  _wanted_  to do." She lowered them both down to the bed, staying sitting next to him, arm still around him. "He said the mercs got ahold of him, they would've killed him. He must've been terrified." She rubbed her hand up and down his side, a gesture meant to be consoling, no doubt, but it only made him want to feel more of her.

He let out a low purr of a rumble, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. "I know," he said, letting his arm slip down so his hand cupped her mostly bare shoulder, hard bones contrasting against soft skin beneath his fingers. He hummed, pulling in a slow breath, filling his nostrils with her scents. "I just … they all died because of what he did. Because I trusted him. Maybe my instincts are all off. How can I really know?"

"You can't, Garrus. All we can ever do is our best with what we're given." Her hand settled on his hip. "You're a good man. I know you did everything you could for your team. But I also know hearing it wasn't your fault and you did your best feels like shit right now." She let him go, turning to pull a leg up on the bed so she faced him. "After Akuze, I thought if one more person told me it wasn't my fault, I'd end up breaking somebody's face."

He chuffed, leaning over to rest his forehead against her shoulder, fighting the urge to nuzzle his face against her neck. "Tell me again anyway?" He felt so torn, so conflicted, he couldn't think straight. Or maybe he just drank too much to think straight. He just wanted to curl up with her and sleep. Things would look better in the morning, they had to.

When she spoke, her voice sounded strained, but soft and filled with compassion. "It's not your fault."

He let out a soft keen, and she brought her hand up, resting it on the back of his neck, fingers caressing his hide and holding him there against her shoulder. She let out a gentle hum, tilting her head to the side until it rested against his. Another keen tore through him, and he cursed himself inwardly for drinking so damn much.

"Garrus? Look at me." She pressed her palm against his face, thumb brushing gently over the plates of his cheek.

Obediently, he pulled his head back to look at her, mandibles drooping, feeling another keen rising up in his chest. He swallowed, fighting it back and shook his head—a gesture he immediately regretted. He squeezed his eyes closed and swallowed again.

"Hey," she said, thumb brushing over his mandible.

He opened his eyes again, and even in such little light, he saw the sympathy there in her eyes, saw the tears threatening to spill over her lids. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, as much to feel her as to have a reason to lower his gaze again, not wanting to see the look in her eyes. He was supposed to be strong, keep it together for the cause, especially in front of his CO. He really was a terrible turian, but she meant more to him than any CO; she was his best friend and the woman he loved, even if he didn't know how to tell her.

"It'll get easier, I promise." Her words came whisper-soft against his face, and her hand slid around, cupping the back of his head beneath his fringe, fingertips kneading against his hide.

_Spirits, she has no idea what that feels like._

He brought his hand up, mimicking the gesture, feeling the smooth strands of hair beneath his fingers. "Promise?"

"I do." She squeezed him a little. "Now come on, lay down and sleep this off."

"Alright." He let his hand slip away from her and pushed himself back on the bed, collapsing against the pillows. "I'd be lost without you, Shepard."

She chuckled, crawling over his legs. "Not as lost as I'd be without you, Garrus." She jerked the blankets out from under him. Shoving her legs under the covers, she stayed propped on her elbow, leaning over him to tug the blankets back up around him.

He reached over, sliding his arm under hers, fingers splaying out over her back and tugged at her. "Come here," he said, his subvocals thrumming with his desire to have her close.

She didn't question him, just curled in against him, fingers wrapping around his cowl and face pressing against the side of his keel. She let out a quiet, contented sigh, and he hummed, slipping his arm further around her, holding her tight as sleep pulled him under.

* * *

Consciousness started to creep back in with a flood of sensations and a tension coiled inside of him seeking release. His plates were open, cock completely unsheathed, pressing against his undersuit. His arm held tight to something soft, and the most amazing, musky aroma filled his nostrils, mingling with a sweet, floral scent, coming off of the smooth surface pressed against his face. Instinct shifted his hips forward, making contact with something warm and pliable, putting pressure on his cock, and he groaned, grinding his hips. A low, throaty moan sounded in response, and suddenly he felt wide awake.

He froze, assessing the situation. His keel pressed against Shepard's back, face buried in her neck … his cock against her ass. "Spirits. Shit, Shepard, I'm sorry."

Mortified, he moved his arm, trying to pull away from her, but she shushed him. Arching her back, pushing her ass against him, she stopped him in his tracks, and his heart slammed against his chest. He'd been praying for something definitive from her, some clear sign she wanted him as much as he wanted her, and he didn't see any way it'd get any clearer. She tugged at his arm, pulling it back around her, sliding his hand under her shirt and pressed into him again. His breath caught in his throat, fingers twitching against her stomach. He shifted forward, pushing back against her, and she let out a whimper, muscles fluttering beneath his hand. The scent in the air grew stronger, completely surrounding him, driving him insane.

He closed his eyes, nuzzling back into her neck, heart racing as he breathed her in, every nerve in his body on edge. She pushed his hand further up, settling his palm down over one of her breasts and then closed her fingers around his, making him squeeze the tender flesh. Moaning, she rocked her hips, rubbing against him in the most encouraging, enticing way. He kneaded her breast in his palm, earning him another soft moan as she pushed against him again.

A hungry rumble tore through his chest, and he nipped at the delicate skin of her neck and shoulder. "Spirits, you smell so good."

She pulled away a little, leaving him fighting the urge to yank her back and clamp his teeth around her shoulder to hold her in place. She rolled over, and he pulled her back in closer, nipping and licking her neck and shoulder when she tilted her head back, exposing her throat to him. Hooking one of her legs over his, she pulled his leg between her thighs, rubbing herself against him and filling the air with a fresh dose of her musk. He let out a low growl, gripping her hip, rocking her against his leg.

She moaned, shuddering in his grasp before wrapping a hand around his head and tugged. He lifted his head, searching her gaze, trying to figure out what she wanted, but she just pressed her lips to his mouth. He didn't know what he was supposed to do there, kissing wasn't really a turian thing, but she didn't seem to care. Her tongue slipped past his mouth plates, and he opened his mouth wider to her, letting her avoid his teeth as her tongue met his. He tried to match her movements, but after a few seconds, it felt more like the galaxy's most awkward battle for dominance, so he relaxed, letting her guide him instead.

She pushed at him, urging him to his back and then climbed on top of him, straddling him. She felt so warm against his cock, he lifted his hips a little, pushing against her, hungry for more. She moaned, arching her back, then leaned down over him to kiss him again, her body wrapped around his. Gripping her hips, he moved her against him, letting out a low growl. Spirits, he wanted her, needed her.

She sat up, lifting her shirt off over her head. He moved his hands to her breasts, squeezing and kneading, savoring the sounds she made. He must be doing something right. He wanted to taste her skin, trail his tongue and teeth over her, but he needed to remember to be careful. Wrapping one arm around her back to support her, he shoved the other palm into the bed and pulled himself up against the pillows until he could reach her. He nipped at her collar bones, and she pressed her fingers into the sensitive hide beneath his crest. He gave her an approving groan and ducked his head lower, trailing his tongue over her breast, pulling her in closer when she arched her back.

Her hands swept over him, covering every inch of plate and hide within reach. He slipped a hand into the waistband of her pants, reminding himself to be careful of his talons, and pulled at the fabric, wanting it out of his way. She rolled off of him, lying on her back and lifting her hips into the air, shoving her pants down and tossing them aside, stripping herself bare, flooding the air with her musky scent.

Shifting on the bed in a rush to do the same, he growled, nearly shredding his undersuit pants in the process before easing them down over his cock, pulling them off and dropping them over the edge of the bed. He shoved the pillows around behind him, stacking them up so he could recline against them. Reaching for her as she climbed back over him, holding herself above him on her knees, he rubbed his hands along her smooth, muscular thighs before settling on her hips. He let out a pleading rumble, tugging at her hips. The heat coming from between her legs made him desperate to be inside of her.

She wrapped her fingers around his cock, and he shuddered, pushing into her hand. She leaned forward a little, her other hand braced against the wall behind him, and rubbed the tip of his cock against her, slick and hot, and oh so soft. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper.

He kneaded at her waist, pushing up against her just a little. "Spirits, yes. For so long."

She covered her mouth with his, shifting her hips, lowering herself on to him. His breath caught in his throat, feeling her body swallow him, so tight and hot. Bringing her hands to his shoulders, she took her time, easing him inside of her, inch by inch, testing his self-restraint. Her insides stretched around him, accommodating him like she was made just for him. Oh Spirits, he wasn't going to last long at all.

She finally settled, taking him in nearly completely, muscles spasming around him, tongue dancing over his, and draped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, burying the fingers of one hand in her hair, the other hand splayed out over her shoulder blade, keel nestling in between her breasts. Lifting up into her, he pulled at her, urging her body down, letting out a hungry groan as he sunk deeper. Her mouth left him, and she started to rock her hips. He nuzzled against her neck and shoulder, nipping and licking, little growls slipping out of him as she moved around him.

She rolled her head to the side, offering her throat to him, her words coming out almost a whine as she said, "Oh, God. You feel so good."

"So do you." He licked her throat, sinking his teeth in just a little deeper than before, pulling a moan from her. "Spirits, so do you."

He bit her again, testing the waters, careful not to be too rough, he didn't want to hurt her or rip open her delicate skin. Moaning, she shuddered and started moving faster, bucking her hips, grinding herself against him, letting out a little whimper. Yes. Spirits, yes. He panted against her as she started slamming herself down on him harder and harder, her thighs slapping against his plates. He locked his teeth around the stretch of skin and muscle between her shoulder and neck, taking all of his willpower to not draw blood, trying desperately to hold off on cumming.

She slipped her hand down between them, touching herself just above where they were joined, rubbing frantically. Spirits, she felt amazing, smelled amazing, and the sounds coming from her were just …. She tightened around him, breath becoming uneven and ragged, movements more urgent, more demanding until she sucked in a deep breath, letting out a cry as she shuddered, bucking wildly, every inch of her spasming and sending him crashing over the edge.

* * *

He felt nervous, watching the clock as it grew closer and closer to the time he'd normally head upstairs to her cabin. He didn't know if she'd still want him up there, didn't know if she felt the same way about what happened between them as he did. What if it was just a one time, heat of the moment thing for her? What if she woke up regretting it or embarrassed; he'd heard humans did that sometimes.

It'd been a busy day for her, she spent most of the day groundside. He'd barely caught a glimpse of her after leaving her cabin, and they didn't exactly talk through things when they woke up in the morning. Spirits, he hoped it wasn't a one-time thing, though he'd be happy to have enjoyed the experience if that's all it was, but he wanted so much more with her. He'd find a way to be content with anything she gave him, anything, so long as she didn't push him away. He couldn't imagine her doing that, though.

The door to the Main Battery slid open, and he glanced over his shoulder. "Shepard." His heart slammed in his chest, nerves setting his teeth on edge. He turned to face her as she walked inside.

"Hey," she said, voice soft, tentative. "I thought maybe we should talk … about last night."

He swallowed and nodded his head. "Yeah," he said, voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Definitely."

"Sit with me?" She moved over to his cot and sat down.

He followed her, taking a seat on the edge, his body angled toward her so he could give her his complete attention. "Last night was …."

She folded her shoulders in and said, "Well, I don't know about you, but I thought it was pretty amazing."

He laughed, shoulders slumping as relief swept over him. "Absolutely amazing."

She smirked and scraped her teeth over her lip. "Yeah?"

"Definitely." He hummed, reaching over to take her hand in his. "I haven't been able to get anything at all done today. I've just been in here thinking about last night, thinking about you." He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. "Hoping it wasn't something you regretted, hmmm, and wondering if you might want to do again."

"Hell yes," she squeezed his hand, suddenly smelling nervous, "but I think there's something I should tell you first."

He nodded, bringing his other hand over to rub the back of her hand, trapping it between his. "I'm listening."

"I … this thing between us … I stopped thinking of you as just a friend long ago." Clearing her throat, she swallowed. "If this is going to be a thing with us, I need you to know it's going to  _mean_ something to me. My heart's going to be in it, all the way. So if that's not something you want, or—"

He cut her off, leaning in to press his forehead to hers, cupping her face and letting out a purr. "I love you, Shepard."

Shifting on the cot, she pushed herself to her knees, moving over to straddle his lap despite his armor and wrapped her arms around his neck. She grinned at him, looking the happiest he'd ever seen her. "I love you, too."


End file.
